


He looked like me. Exactly like me.

by foxmulder_whereartthou



Category: Invader Zim, Us (Movie 2019)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Blood and Violence, Dib-centric (Invader Zim), I DONT MAKE THE RULES, Inspired by Art, Inspired by Us (Movie 2019), POV Third Person, Stabbing, archive warnings became im scared!!!, i literally dont seriously ask invaderbake, pilot dib is dib's tethered ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 10:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxmulder_whereartthou/pseuds/foxmulder_whereartthou
Summary: Pilot Dib has risen to the surface, to finally get rid of his tethered.based off amazing art by a discord friend!!!! their art this was inspired by is linked in the notes, theyre @invaderbake on tumblr go follow them :)))





	He looked like me. Exactly like me.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this amazing art!!! by discord lad @invaderbake on tumblr!! :)))

In the stifling corner of his bedroom, the imitator looms over him; it’s shadow a chasm in the calm planes of the room’s soft lighting. As the phantom snakes it’s slender, leather-gloved fingers around his throat, Dib realises this is way worse than anything Zim could’ve done -  _ would’ve  _ done.    
  
No, this is something else, he feels it; this wraithlike replica is not of Zim’s making.

A shrill pulse matching Dib’s own thrums through the monstrosity’s hands as they tighten, unrelenting, and the spectre’s thin lips peel back to reveal a jagged, filthy grin that curls at it’s cheekbones and leers down at Dib’s trembling form. Out of sheer terror, his fight response finally stumbles to its feet and Dib scrabbles violently at the grotesque facsimile, nails tearing at flesh that he can almost believe to be his own. 

However, despite Dib’s desperate, manic attempts at harm, all the horrifying mimic does is widen it’s macabre smile and pry a sweaty hand from Dib’s neck to block the attacks.

  
  
In a frenzied moment of complete redundancy, Dib’s nails find his recreation’s forehead, and dig sharply into thinly-stretched skin, blood and muscle caking his fingertips.    
_ Oh, _ Dib’s thoughts sputter out, fitfully forming words and phrases in stutters and starts,  _ So it  _ is _ human. _   
Taken aback, the physical mirror image breaks the facade of control and falls haphazardly sideways towards the cabinet, and Dib takes the fleeting moment of power to his full advantage, shoving the heel of his boot into it’s side.

  
  
Doubled over, Dib takes a second to catch his breath - and feel the tender bruises beginning to form on his neck. His glasses are smashed beyond repair but he still spots a flash of gold lingering, like a shimmer of hope, his very own deus ex machina, beneath the drawers.   
  
That divine intervention of his takes the peculiar form of a pair of ornate scissors, the handle perfectly shaped to Dib’s bloody knuckles.

  
  
He turns them over in his hands, momentarily distracted, until his hellish spitting image, rebirthed a phoenix in a red jumpsuit, rises from his ashes to lunge, leaving the side of his head perfectly open for an- attack.

  
Skull bone crunches and crackles, and he rips the scissors back out almost instantly, to immediately begin inflicting as many stab wounds as he can. His energy finally depleted, Dib sinks back into the corner, marvelling at how blood paints the stars on his ceiling and the posters on his walls a morbid, garish crimson.   
  
And before exhaustion and horror can swallow him whole, Dib wonders in a ghastly sort of curiosity if the blood splattered across the room would match his own.   



End file.
